


the vine and the tree

by heartsways



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F, i know - it was a surprise to me too when i wrote it, lady surgeons in love, oddly enough - they're both fully clothed in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 16:32:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9450410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartsways/pseuds/heartsways
Summary: being who you are is difficult when you're not really sure what you're supposed to betumblr repost with a few tweaks





	

"Does he know whose surgery he's scrubbing in on?"

 

Bernie looks up, following Serena's eyeline across the ward to where Cameron looks mightily pleased with himself and Morven looks like a proud parent, clapping him on the back and beaming up at him.  Bernie's pen pauses on the clipboard in her hand and she narrows her gaze.  Something's going on there, she thinks, watching Cam's easy manner and Morven's blindingly bright smile.  Good for him.  And maybe good for Morven, too.  

 

Turning to Serena, Bernie blinks under her fringe and shrugs.  "Nope."

 

Serena frowns.  "Don't you think you should tell him it's yours?"

 

Scribbling her signature onto the clipboard with a flourish, Bernie shoves it into the rack behind the desk and lets out a bark of mirth, eyeing Serena wryly.  "And where would be the fun in that?" she murmurs.

 

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Serena opts for a rather more disapproving expression and makes a little sound of warning.  "You know it wouldn't be wholly appropriate to mete out special favours for a relative, yes?"

 

Bernie holds her hands up in mock surrender.  "Nothing to do with me.  Morven arranged the whole thing.  She said competition among our new recruits is healthy.  Cam won fair and square, I promise you."

 

Humming flatly, Serena looks at her with that arresting gaze and Bernie sags a little, shrugging again.  "You can't blame a mother for wanting to show off a little in front of her son, though, can you?  Besides, he's got the opportunity to observe one of the best trauma surgeons in the country work miracles in theatre.  _And_ he gets to call me mum."

 

"I've always found your innate sense of humility deeply attractive," Serena says sardonically.

 

Bernie lifts her head and preens as though under a compliment.  Then she leans in close - too close - to Serena and whispers, "And I've always found your mean girl act tends to fade away once we're alone together."

 

Serena gasps at the inference, at the memories that crowd her mind.  She has a sudden flash of herself writhing beneath Bernie, her fingers closing around a wrist, pushing it down between her legs, _please please touch me..._  


She swallows visibly and Bernie, rather too pleased with herself, leans back.  Her eyes crinkle in a smile of satisfaction and she's happy to ignore the way Serena's gaze darts furtively around the ward to see who's listening.  Nobody is..  Their relationship has become inconsequential now; there's always newer, far more shocking gossip to whisper and giggle over.  Two women in love is...rather pedestrian, all things considered, as far as Holby's concerned.

 

"You, ah, wanted to see me?" Bernie says.  Serena looks at her and Bernie can't help but see the remnants of whatever she was thinking gleam in her eyes, dark and longing.  It makes her own gaze avaricious, suggestive.

 

"In the office," Serena says briskly, but she avoids Bernie's gaze and turns directly on her heel, marching off across the ward.

 

 

 

***

 

 

With the office door closed and the sound of her never-ending crisis management of a job muted enough to let her breathe, Serena sinks into her chair.  The sigh she lets out is heavy and she rubs at her temples to assuage the beginning of a headache, pinching behind her eyes.  Bernie is there in an instant, perching on the edge of her desk and leaning in with a worried frown.

 

"What's wrong?" she asks.  Serena looks up at her with tired eyes and musters up a placatory smile.

 

"It's Jason," she says plainly.  Bernie blinks, says nothing, but shifts a little closer on the desk so that her leg almost touches Serena's.

 

"We've been having an ongoing disagreement for a month and now I'm at the stage where even the sight of him puts my teeth on edge.  He's so terribly dogmatic sometimes and when he gets an idea in his head..."  Serena trails off, sucking at her teeth and shaking her head.  Then she glances towards the ward outside.  "I can't even come to work to get away from him and his pestering."

 

"About what?"

 

Serena leans back in her chair, gazing up at Bernie.  She seems almost embarrassed and her voice, when she speaks, is low with a rumble of reluctance.  "He keeps telling me that, if I'm going to have my girlfriend - " Serena's eyebrows rise at the word, at the fact that she's saying it out loud and how it's hardly fitting for two grown women like them, " - stay overnight then it's patently unfair that he can't have his do the same."

 

"Oh," Bernie says, her mouth forming a perfect circle.  Her hands grip at the desk, nudging on either side of her thighs.  " _Oh_ ," she says again, like she understands what sons want from their mothers.

 

"Yes," Serena says, drawing out the word like a finality.  Then she takes a breath and frowns.  "I mean, it doesn't matter how I try to explain to him that you and I are - that we're - "

 

"Friends?  Colleagues?  People who enjoy sharing a bed?" Bernie blurts out enough possibilities to have Serena smiling fondly up at her, which is something of a minor victory.  As Serena pushes out yet another sigh and her features fall, Bernie decides she'll take it, however hard the war is.

 

"It's not really about us, though, is it?" she says grimly.  "He's so dead set on the idea of things being fair without any consideration as to all the conversations we'd need to have before I could ever think about such a thing happening, not to mention her parents who are, I might add, of the helicopter sort.  The first time she came over for dinner they waited outside in the car for twenty minutes before deciding nothing bad was going to happen to her.  Apparently they're not fazed at all by the idea of their daughter spending the night with Jason, whereas I can't imagine anything with more potential to go wrong."

 

She throws her hands up in frustration and wonders if Serena Campbell: Superwoman has taken on too much this time.  Children are one thing and, god knows, Elinor was something of a dream when she was younger.  But Jason isn't her baby; she hasn't had time to nurture him or offer him comfort as anything but a young man.  The fact that he's no ordinary young man hasn't helped, either, she thinks sadly.  Their learning curve has been steeper than anything Serena ever had thrown at her at Harvard.  And she managed that - not without a few bumps along the way - just fine, thank you very much.

 

The thing is, she doesn't really want to manage Jason.  She just wants to love him and let him know that he's wanted, appreciated.

 

Serena just isn't entirely sure that this is the right way to do that.  She's good at learning from her mistakes and has always tried to see them as positives, in the greater scheme of things.  But she doesn't want to make mistakes with Jason, however challenging his habits and behaviour.  Serena wants to get things right the first time, just like she did in her studies all those years ago; she knows she's putting herself under pressure to perform.

 

Maybe that's what's thudding painfully in her head, she thinks.  She should probably take it as a harbinger of something in the _not good_ category.

 

"I suppose Jason does have a point," Bernie says, and Serena looks up at her, eyes wide in horror.  Bernie demurs a little at the sight of them and lets out a tiny noise of conciliation.  "He's not a child, Serena."

 

"He's not quite an adult, either," Serena snorts.  "I don't think he really has any firm concept of physical intimacy other than the fact that he likes kissing, apparently."

 

"Oh, well," Bernie nods, "can't blame him for that.  Kissing _is_ very nice."

 

She has the nerve to twinkle down at Serena, who presses her lips into a firm line and tries very hard not to think about - 

 

Too late.   _Bernie's mouth on hers, their tongues sliding together and that sound Bernie makes that tingles down Serena's spine and pools, low and urgent, between her legs._  


 

Serena swallows again and gives Bernie a hard look of reprove.  It has little to no effect; Bernie is implacable and beautiful and Serena wants to kiss her right here and now.

 

She doesn't.  At least, not when the ward is busy, like today.  But other times...yes.  Other times when they haven't been able to help themselves.  Other times when they just had to touch one another, kiss one another.  It's all very well citing professional conduct manuals, Serena thinks.  But the people who wrote them probably never had to contend with Bernie Wolfe swanning around the place looking effortlessly tousled and gorgeous.

 

Serena's only human, when it comes down to it.  Which is quite the confidence-shaker, given her current predicament.

 

"Have you talked to him about it?" 

 

Serena rolls her eyes.  "He's talked about little else for weeks."

 

"No," Bernie gives her a tight smile, "have _you_ talked to _him_ about it?"

 

"I'm not in the habit of discussing my private life with one of my - " Serena pauses.  Jason isn't her son, no matter how much she might believe or feel he is.  "With my nephew," she finishes.

 

"Again, he's not a child," Bernie reminds her in a tone that makes Serena bristle.  "He was the one pushing us together when I came back from the Ukraine, remember?  He clearly has some understanding of how relationships work."

 

"I'm not sure that's a good example," Serena mutters.  "And I'm not even sure what Jason knows about - about that sort of thing."

 

"And asking him would be...?"

 

Serena gives Bernie a pained look, cringing back in her chair.  It's not that she's squeamish, it's really rather that the more she explains to Jason about anything to do with emotions, the more questions he seems to have.  Sometimes, Serena just runs out of answers.  Or patience.

 

"You remember what happened the last time Jason tried it on with his girlfriend," she intones.  

 

"He's come a long way since then," Bernie quietly remonstrates.

 

"Yes, I'm rather more concerned with how far he'll go as opposed to how far he's come, thank you, Bernie," Serena says shortly.  

 

Bernie frowns, confused.  "Is it that you don't want him having sex under your roof or that you don't want him having sex at all?" she muses gently.  "Because, either way, it's a bit old-fashioned."

 

"You're meant to be on my side!" Serena whines, only slightly ruffled that Bernie's making sense.

 

"I _am_ on your side," Bernie reassures her.  "I'm just saying that if he is going to be...intimate with someone, then wouldn't you rather it happened somewhere he feels safe and comfortable?  He's a young man - " she stops and holds up a finger as Serena opens her mouth to protest, " - a young man who has an emotional attachment to someone despite all the challenges he faces.  He has a job, which he's actually very good at, from what I hear.  He has friends.  Why shouldn't he have this, too?"

 

"I don't want him to get hurt.  He really likes her."  There's a deep care in Serena's voice that makes Bernie cock her head onto one side, gazing intently down at her.

 

"Serena, I don't know if you realise it but you're probably the absolute best person Jason could talk to."  Bernie gathers her hands in her lap and shifts on the desk, crossing her ankles.  "When it comes to feeling things - confusing things or - or new things...you do have some experience in that area.  And, yes, it's not the same thing but the feelings involved aren't that different."

 

The dubious look cast her way makes Bernie sigh a little.  "He just wants to be close to her," she sighs.  One of her feet slides across the floor and nudges Serena's.  The air between them softens, becomes lazily familiar.  "You can understand how that feels, can't you?"

 

Serena remembers the longing, the aching need to be near Bernie.  How she wanted to touch her, let her fingers wander down the curve of Bernie's neck.  But she hadn't known she wanted to kiss her until she did.  And then Serena never wanted to stop.

 

It's hard to imagine anyone feeling the way she does, least of all Jason.  She's caught in the guilt of underestimating him and the fear of overestimating him, as always.  Emotions battle across her features as she folds her arms over her chest, squeezing them tightly to try and keep it all inside.  Serena's become quite adept at doing that, particularly when it comes to Jason.  It's not his fault, she knows.  But sometimes she gets so frightened, so out of her depth that if she wore everything on the outside she'd be hysterical half the time.

 

"Well, what about alternatives," Bernie suggests.  "Would it help if I didn't stay at yours for a while?"

 

Serena's horrified and glares up at Bernie.  "How the hell would that help anyone?" she snaps, then instantly regrets it.  Instinctively, she reaches out and puts her hand onto Bernie's knee.  "That wouldn't help _me_ ," she adds gently.

 

Bernie's hand covers her own; her thumb brushes over Serena's.  "I'm very glad to hear it," she mumbles, looking down where their hands are touching.  There's an expression on her face that Serena can't quite read and she gazes up at it, losing herself momentarily - _who is she kidding?  She's been lost in Bernie since the beginning, always_ \- before Bernie smiles at her and takes her hand away.

 

"But, if you want to help Jason, then you're going to have to make a decision either way and stick to it," she tells Serena.  

 

"I'm going to have to talk to him, aren't I?" Serena grumbles.  Bernie raises her eyebrows then nods, just once, definitively.  Serena lets out a grating sigh and slumps back into her chair, defeated.  She rubs at her temple again, the niggling pain there putting a tight scowl across her face.

 

Bernie's behind her in a trice, pushing her fingers away and replacing them with her own.  Strong fingers slide around the base of her skull and knead into a sore spot she didn't even know she had at the back of her neck.  Serena groans loudly and Bernie leans down, dropping a kiss onto the top of her head before applying herself vigorously to smoothing out the knot underneath Serena's skin.

 

"As you're dishing out advice, perhaps you should be the one to talk to Jason," Serena says glumly.  "He likes you more than he likes me, anyway."

 

"Well, that's just because I don't mind sitting through hours of military history documentaries with him," Bernie laughs.  "But he loves you, Serena, and that's a whole different kettle of fish for him.  For - for anyone, really."  Her voice slows, becomes ponderous as she stares down at the nape of Serena's neck, remembers scraping her nails over it, covering it with kisses.  Bernie's fingers dip below the neckline of Serena's shirt and skitter across skin that's peppered with freckles.  She knows each one by heart now.

 

"Loving Serena Campbell is quite the experience, trust me on that," she murmurs, her hands sliding over shoulders that are so strong to carry the weight and burdens that they do.  One of Serena's hands rises and clasps her own for a second, gratitude and love coming together in silent agreement.  Then Bernie moves away, wandering across the office towards her desk.  Serena watches her carefully with veiled eyes.  Bernie's confessions of love come haltingly, sometimes, when the words blurt from her mouth in bed or are mumbled against Serena's neck, her stomach, her inner thigh.  But she's always so conscious of what she's said and what it means, refusing to make eye contact in case she doesn't see the same in Serena's gaze.

 

It's endearing as it is frustrating.  Much like Bernie herself, Serena thinks wryly.  Bernie glances up from her desk, blinks slowly and proffers a little smile.  It almost looks like an apology.

 

"You know," Serena comments, "my mother always used to say that, in relationships, you're either the tree or the vine."

 

Bernie blinks again but, this time, confusion draws lines around her eyes.

 

"One person stands tall and the other clings to them."

 

"I take it your mother never heard of co-dependency, then," Bernie huffs dubiously.

 

"My mother was a tree," Serena intones.  The hurt in her voice is palpable.  She breathes over it then shrugs.  "I thought I was the tree with Jason."

 

She frowns a little sheepishly.  "Turns out I'm the vine.  Clinging on too tightly in the hopes I can squeeze happiness out of him."

 

"That's not true," Bernie states.  She gathers up a folder from her desk and tucks it under her arm, rising from her chair.  "Serena, you've been the tree: reliable, supportive - "

 

"Immovable, rooted," Serena interjects, her mouth twisting around the words.  "I mean, you're right.  Jason probably does have a point.  If you turning up at the breakfast table is going to be a regular thing then I suppose he has every right to want the same with his girlfriend."

 

"Is it?" Bernie pauses by the corner of her desk, peering at Serena from beneath her fringe.  "Breakfast.  Going to be a regular thing, I mean."

 

Serena looks down at her desk under the pretence of reaching for a pen, opening a folder and staring down at the page in front of her.  "I hope so," she says, a secret rush of pleasure at the idea, at the reality: Bernie padding into her kitchen, sleep-ruffled and still bed-warm.

 

When she looks up, Bernie's smiling at her and it suddenly makes everything alright again.  Manageable.  Because Bernie's not going anywhere and she doesn't have to do anything alone anymore.  Whatever happens with Jason - Serena dreads to think of how many ways it can go wrong - Bernie will be there.  She promised as much last night, and the night before that, and so many times previous to that Serena's head is suddenly full of them in a dizzying, whirling storm.  Being a tree seems less appealing as she's buffeted by what she has - what they have.

 

"By the way," Bernie suddenly says, stopping at the door, "you're also aware that you don't have to be just one thing or another, aren't you, despite what your mother said?"

 

"What do you mean?" Serena is surprised, instantly on the defensive.

 

"Well, the tree...the vine.  You can be both.  For Jason and...other people.  If it suited you."  Bernie looks down at the floor, shuffles her feet, finds something fascinating on the grey hospital tile.  "I mean, the vine doesn't just cling to the tree.  It grows with it.  Protects it, sometimes.  They become a part of one another and I think that's - "

 

Now Bernie looks at Serena and her eyes are bright, glistening with warmth and hope.  "I think that's probably how it's supposed to be, don't you?"

 

"Are you talking about me and Jason or something else?"

 

Serena's question hangs between them and Bernie's smile wavers for a second.  She's always enjoyed Serena's direct nature; it's so terribly attractive.  But when she's in the spotlight of interrogation, Bernie wishes she could always have the perfect answers for Serena that would satisfy and comfort her.  She deserves that at the very least.  But then, Bernie thinks that Serena deserves everything.

 

Everything Bernie suspects, fearfully, that she isn't.

 

It's not going to stop her trying, though.  It's not going to stop her loving Serena so wholly and completely with all she has in her.

 

"I'm talking about the fact that one thing shouldn't be all you are.  Be you."

 

Serena snorts, nostrils flaring.  "Is that all?"

 

"No," Bernie tells her.  "It's everything.  It's..." she flounders, falling over her words and lets out a self-effacing laugh as confession prickles over her skin.  But Serena is watching her, seeing everything Bernie can't hide anymore and doesn't really want to.  She sags against the door but makes herself meet Serena's eyes.  

 

"I don't think you know," she says, her voice moving slowly over each word," how truly...brilliant you are.  To Jason and to me.  Whatever else you are - or aren't - that's always true."

 

Bernie grasps the doorhandle; she's running away again but now it's different.  Now she never goes very far.  And, later, when she comes back, Serena will want to act on the emotion that's shining in her eyes.  Bernie doesn't think she'll ever really stop that flare of excitement at the thought.  She takes a breath and straightens.

 

"Now, I should really go and prep for surgery with my son," she says grimly, but her eyes are kind as she opens the door and takes one, last, greedy look at Serena.  "Maybe it's my turn to be a tree."

 

 

***


End file.
